It had been a long day at work, and you were finally free to leave, but there was one thing still on your mind: picking up the cake for your brother’s birthday. You had promised him you’d get the special one from his favorite bakery, and you couldn’t wait to surprise him. But, as fate would have it, just as you were about to head out, the skies opened up, and rain began to pour down in torrents. The streets quickly filled with puddles, and you had no choice but to seek shelter under a barely-covered bus stop, trying to shield yourself as best as you could.

The cool droplets hit your face as you checked your phone. The cake was still waiting, and your brother was expecting you. You quickly dialed his number, hoping he’d offer to come to get you. After a few rings, he answered.

"Hey, I’m caught in the rain. I’m going to be late picking up the cake," you said, frustration lacing your voice.

Without missing a beat, your brother reassured you. “Don’t worry, I’ll come get you. Stay where you are.”

Relief flooded through you as you made your way to the bus stop’s edge, trying to stay out of the rain as best as you could. But moments later, you saw the gleaming headlights of a black Aston Martin pulling up to the curb.

Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t your brother in the driver's seat. Instead, Alex Volkov—your ex—was behind the wheel.

Alex. The man you had once shared everything with. The man who had been your boyfriend for three years before everything had fallen apart five weeks ago. Your chest tightened as memories of your relationship flooded back: the late-night talks, the laughter, and the heartbreak that came when things ended so suddenly. It still stung.

And now, here he was, in your brother’s place, looking every bit as perfect as he always had. His sharp jawline, dark eyes, and effortless style made your heart flutter and ache at the same time. Alex stepped out of the car, his usual confidence radiating off him, but there was something different now. You were no longer the person he turned to.